Light Purple Dark
by TheIncredibleDancingBetty
Summary: Tragedy strikes and Donatello is having trouble coping. He considers the unthinkable and crosses paths with someone. Will she ultimately lead him down a path to destruction? The vicious tale may be written in blood. Don POV Blood/gore/(romance?) Anonymous reviews welcome
1. The Trigger

Please forgive if this is a bit choppy. My computer was majorly acting up and as a result I had to rewrite this chapter 3 friggin times. Let me know how my Donny POV is, I've been gone for a few years so I now that I'm a bit rusty. Don can be a hard character to write! Well, enjoy!

Chapter 1

What was I thinking?

I looked sideways at April. She was quietly watching the movie, sipping her soda. The movie was nearing the end, not that I was completely sure anyway. It was a romantic comedy. Normally I don't mind that sort of thing too much, out of all of our brothers I suppose you could say that I had the highest tolerance for 'chick flicks,' but this time I just couldn't pay attention. After all, we were on a date.

Well, maybe not really a date. I told her that I wasn't in the mood to watch a movie alone and asked if she would come along, so theoretically she was here on false pretenses.

My stomach clenched and I gritted my teeth, my fingertips digging into the arm of the seat. What was I THINKING? This went against everything that I was. Ninjitsu was about honor, was this about honor? Even if you ignore the honor part, what about common decency? She just broke up with Casey a month ago and here I am swooping in like a vulture, here to claim the 'spoils.'

It's not like it was exactly a pretty break up. Does that make it any less wrong? I wasn't sure.

I had always had a crush on her. It was obvious to my brothers, but as an unspoken rule they rarely mentioned it except for the occasional jab and tease. From what I've seen in observing people on my street on the rare occasion when I take to wandering and from what I can see of society through the media, it is pretty easy for the other party to be oblivious of the crush no matter how obvious it is to others. Either that or the person is aware but chooses to ignore it, perhaps to hope it will go away or to see what the other will do. It seems like a cruel dance so far as I'm concerned. Like an insect collector killing their beetles and butterflies because they are so beautiful. I always tried to fight it. After all, what woman would want to be with something like me? Especially someone like her.

So I fought it. But it didn't help.

The thing is, during the last year, we had grown so much closer, spent so much more time together, that had to count for something, right? On our 20th birthday party she vented to me about everything that was going on with her life, with Casey, about him not wanting to grow up, about his attitude... She must have vented for over an hour, at the end being so apologetic at taking up so much of my time on my own birthday, saying that she was being selfish. How could I find the words to tell her that this was anything but? That I treasured our time together? Whatever I had awkwardly blurted out must have worked, for I relished the embrace that we shared afterward. She squeezed her body fully onto my plastron, her face in the crook of my neck, her breath dancing across my skin sending the sensation down my spine and into my toes. Then in a low voice, she asked, almost to herself, 'Why can't more guys be like you.'

Of course she realized what she said pretty quick and our wonderful moment was suddenly awkward. I blushed, couldn't speak. She mumbled some excuse and went to join the party without looking at me again. She left pretty soon afterwards. I didn't leave my room for a while, not until long after the party was over. My family knocked on my door, but I begged off, saying that the cake was sugar overload on my stomach and the nausea was too much. It wasn't a complete lie, after all whenever I thought about our talk, her embrace what she said...my stomach did all sorts of unnatual twists and turns that I didn't know exactly how to interpret them.

I couldn't help but think, did she mean it? A guy like me?

All these thoughts coursed through my head as the movie resolved itself in a hokie, feel-good ending and the two lovers ended up together again despite the odds, to live happily ever after in their star-crossed lives. My legs felt like rubber, my feet glued to the grimy floor. If only...

I found it hard to get up at first. This was it. I had the excuse of the movie the whole time to stay silent, thinking over and over about what I would say on our walk home, only to have every thought within my head vanish as soon as the opportunity showed it's ugly head.

April was smiling, going over her favorite parts of the movie.

I smile and nod, watching her lips move, her face animated, full of expression and happiness, wondering if she knows how beautiful she is.

Cinching my trenchcoat tighter, we make our way out of the movie theater and start our walk down the sidewalk, careful to stick to the darker part of the street to avoid direct notice. Not that I'm not already noticeable enough, dressed in a hat, bandana and trenchcoat on a warm spring evening. If anyone ever made an issue of it and got too close with their nosy questions then a mention of a possibly contagious rash usually quelled any further inquiry.

She keeps up her animated talk. I listen to the rise and fall of her voice. It sounds like music. The entire time I'm kicking myself inside. Well? Why don't you say something? Tell her! You're both adults! Do it!

Coward. That's what I am. Pure coward.

No. I have to say something. If anything, to end this charade. To be honest.

Silence starts to edge it's way between us. If feels heavy and palpable, like I could reach our and stroke it between my fingers. I can tell that she feels the same way. She's looking at the pavement, chewing her lip, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans. I open my mouth to speak.

"Listen, Donnie..."

I snap my jaw shut and look up at her. Even now, technically an adult, she towers over my shorter frame. "Yes April?" My voice sounds hesitant, thready. Damn! Where's that confidence that rang so clear when you went over this in your head!

"I wanted to apologize again, for before...uh...at the party..." She held up a hand as soon as I started to speak, to tell her that it was alright. When she looked at me her eyes brimmed with moisture. Something in my chest twisted. "You see, the thing is, I feel that I've...I, I've been taking advantage of you."

My jaw dropped. What? That wasn't what I expected to hear. "I, I don't understand." My heart thudded hard against my plastron, I almost expected her to hear. The bad thing was, I knew that this wasn't going to end well. My legs screamed at me to run away, the muscles becoming weak with the effort of resistance; my brain raled at me, telling me that I didn't want to hear this. Yet I stood there, stupidly glued to the same spot, unable to move.

She looked away, took a deep breath. Her voice had a slight tremble. "Actually, I think that you do." Turning her head she looked into my eyes, her strawberry hair falling slightly over her eyes. "I know that you've had...sort of a crush on me..."

A hard lump formed in my throat and I struggled to swallow it. It wouldn't budge. My brain jumped up and down. 'Now's your chance! Save yourself! Run away! Run!' Sometimes I can't listen. Still rooted to the spot I stared at her like a deer before an oncoming truck. Dumbly watching it's own demise approach.

"You see, you've always been a great...friend...a fantastic friend, but...that's all. I can't in good consciousness allow this to go on, I can't let you do this to yourself. To us. I value our friendship too much for that. I know what you wanted tonight to be, what you were hoping for, but I can't let that happen. I'm sorry, but I just can't."

A punch in the stomach. A slap in the face. Why can't she just do one of those? Surely it has to be preferable to this! "But you and Casey..." What! Why say something like that! How stupid can you be! To bring up that now?

She looked up with her eyes closed, a small smile playing her lips. "That lunkhead." She said to herself. "I know we have our problems, our scuffles. But we're still a couple. In fact," a sharp intake of breath, "I think that he might be ready to get serious." She shook her head. "Sorry. But..." She turned and looked at me face to face. Her expression was serious, her eyes pleading. "We are friends." I stared at her as she spoke. Each word seemed to weigh on me hard, smacking me to the core. "Just friends, okay?"

My heart seemed to pulse in my ears. My head spun and my heart thudded so hard that I was surprised that my teeth didn't rattle. The ground seemed to shatter beneath my feet and I was plumetting. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't how I had planned the evening at all...

I couldn't do this.

"Don. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I really care a lot for you, really. I care for you. As a friend. Please."

What could I say? I didn't get a chance to say what I had wanted, but at this time there was no point was there? She had said all that needed to be said. I tried to work my mouth but nothing came out. My throat was dry. I licked my lips. My tongue felt like a dry stick against my suddenly parched lips. I sniffed as a sudden, hard lump formed in my throat. Shrugging my shoulders in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner I nodded. "Of course. Whatever you say, I-" my voice cracked and I swallowed, but was unable to get past the growing lump in my throat. My brain still screaming, I couldn't ignore it any longer. "I...I'm sorry April, I think I have to go, I have to..."

I fled. I ran away like a coward.

A thousand thoughts were racing through my head. What could I have been thinking? I'm a mutant turtle. She is an intelligent, self sufficient woman with her whole life ahead of her. Why would she want anything to do with me? All that I would do is tie her down. She wouldn't be able to have a normal life, a normal anything. For all I know we couldn't even have kids. Making a committment to me like that would ruin her life. I've been leading myself on like this for no reason. It's been futile. Pointless. A compllete waste. Worse than a waste. Wrong.

I ran, my legs surged with energy, yet they felt so incredibly weak...like wet paper. I stumbled, my shell hit the brick wall of a building. I stopped, my chest wreaking heavy sobs. Weak, weak, weak, weak.

Dragging along the wall, I stood in the shadows, ignored by the few people that passed by. Ignored by them all. Nothing new. Nothing changed. Just my own realization of my own plight. I would never be truly useful to society. Never be able to move about, conduct myself in the circles that I had desired. Even amongst my family, I was the weaker ninja, needed only when my intelligence could lend itself to the group. Not that I had anyone to blame but myself, of course. Who else to blame...

At first I didn't even hear the scream, so deep was I within my own sorrow. The second time it pierced through the air, though, my head perked up, my ears picking up the familiar sound. Even then it took another instant before the sound truly registered home.

APRIL!

In an instant I was on my feet. I didn't know what was pounding harder, my heart or my feet streaking across the pavement.

I streaked down the street, nothing but a green blurr, my trenchcoat billowing behind me like a cape. I pivoted, my feet skidding briefly upon the pavement.

As I turned the corner I could see her. Her back was against the wall, her eyes wide in shock, her lips forming a big 'O'. Directly in front of her was a man, his figure covering most of hers, his body pressed up against her length.

I was upon him in an instant, my fists gripping the back of his coat and literally threw him against the wall on the other side of the alley. He hit it with a jarring thud, his mouth hung open in shock as he took in exactly what had attacked him. My eyes fell to the knife gripped in his hand, to the blood that glinted off the blade.

My heart dropped in a feeling of cold terror as I turned to April.

Her mouth still open, her eyes stil wide in shock, she slowly looked down at the wound in her chest, at the bright red arterial blood that spurted hot between her fingers. Surging forward I grabbed her, helped her down. With shaking hands I tore the fabric of her shirt to expose her abdomen, trying to see the wound. The feelling of panic somehow deepened when I saw the wound's location. It was below her left breast. I could feel her heart struggling beneath her skin, trying in vain to still pump blood despite the gaping hole in the ventricle.

She had maybe a minute, if she was lucky.

Sobbing fresh tears, I futilely tried to stop the wound, my hands shaking. "Shhhhhh. It's okay, it'll be okay. It's okay..." my voice cracked and my vision became blurry through my own tears.

Blood seeping slowly out of her mouth she coughed, sputtering blood droplets across her face. Her eyes looked at me and they seemed distant. I stroked her cheek, leaving a thick smear of her own blood across her face. Already she was beginning to feel cold...so cold...

She worked her lips but no sound came out. With a trembling hand her palm raised and slowly rested upon my cheek. Sobbing fresh tears I raised my own hand and covered her with my own, pressing her skin to me. The tremor in her muscles was terrifying.

Even as I looked into her eyes she tried to say something once more, but again nothing came out. Then something changed. The bright, beautiful intelligence slowly started to fade, as though a candle flame was dying. She was dying. Then it was done.

The light was gone. She was dead.

So...how was it? I haven't ever killed April in any of my stories before. I wanted to make it emotional, not 100% if I was able to pull it off like I wanted. I know that Don seemed to not take as much action, I was trying to get the emotional stuff right. I have a horrible track record when it comes to romances or romantic situations. My only success was with Raph who is really easy to write, but who doesn't love a challenge, right?

Well, let me know what you think. Reviews are always welcome. I love ramblers, they give me extra motivation to write the oncoming chapters. Looking forward to hearing from you! Thank's for the read!


	2. Decisions

It's your fault.

They didn't say so, but I could see it on their faces. Some hesitant questions. 'Why did you leave her alone?' 'Why did you let the guy get away?' I could've told them what I was trying to do with that stupid date idea, I could've told them that I was too distracted with April dying in my arms to pay attention to the street thug but instead I didn't even say anything. I don't think that I've really said a word in a week. I know that Master Splinter is starting to worry but somehow I couldn't bring myself to care. I didn't care what happened to me. My brothers largely kept their distance. They could see my hurt, yet at the same time they could see my fault. Maybe they were counting on time and some nice cushy distance to help things.

Screw time. I hated it. Loathed it. All it serves to do is to prolong suffering.

The funeral was horrible. April had family and friends, coworkers. We couldn't get away with a private funeral. We settled for a cold, starkly silent meeting amongst ourselves before we slunk away to hide in the shadows like rats while the real funeral took place. I felt like laughing. Look, another great prize for being a mutant! We can't even go to a proper damn funeral. Can't even mourn her how I wanted, not that I knew what that was. I waited until everyone was gone then waited longer for the starkness of midnight before slowly going over to the grave, looking at the stinking, filthy dirt that now thought itself worthy to envelop April O'neal. I wanted to cry, I wanted to curse, but all that I could do was sit and stare at it until the golden red color of the sun peaked over the horizon.

I winced as I shifted in my seat. Casting a glance at the fading yet still colorful bruises I sighed and stared at the glowing computer screen once more. Casey wasn't happy. Collossal understatement. He was furious. He screamed at me. He spit in my face. He raled at me, practically accused me of killing her myself.

It was my fauilt. All my fault.

Finally he launched himself on my, pummeling my body with his fists and feet. I didn't even try to fight back. I deserved every blow. I hardly noticed when my family pulled him off of me. I was too numb.

It was my fault.

My family made a few attempts at talking to me but half the time I didn't even know what they were saying. I tried to tell myself that I was being selfish, that they were hurt too, that April was their friend too, but the words fell upon the emptiness inside me with deafening silence. It wasn't the same. Even if I wasn't attracted to her, we had always had that special connection, that special friendship. We shared interests, secrets, thoughts, feelings…

I let my head fall on my arm, staring at the computer screen with listless eyes. I didn't even know what I was looking for, maybe I was just relying on the faithful computer for the cold computerized friendship that it always selflessly provided or maybe it was just so that if my family popped in it would look like I was busy and they wouldn't bother me.

Letting my fingers trail across the keyboard that I specially modified for my blocky fingertips I found myself looking at a law enforcement website. There was a blocked part of it. Before I realized what my hands were doing I found myself weaving right into it, hacking into their system. Maybe it would be nice to do something, I haven't hacked anybody in a while.

It was more intricate than I thought it would be but delved into it anyway. I needed to do something, anything to get rid of the emptiness that threatened to envelop my very soul. This would be a start, I suppose.

It turned out that nearly every officer in New York used this system, each with their own caseload and file in their own separate branches and twigs emanating from the trunk of the main network. Feeling slightly nosey, I looked at the cases.

I shook my head. How could some people live with themselves? The rapes, the assaults, the thefts, the murders… The investigators were able to post their own comments and thoughts in an unnoficial section. Half of the cases the cops were very sure who the perp was but needed more evidence. There was a few where the guy was guilty but the case was thrown out due to trivial things like improper paperwork. I know our justice system is better than most, but sometimes the push for supporting the innocent lets too many go free.

Some of the stories was starting to make my stomach turn, I found my mind wandering. April hated it when I hacked for kicks like this. She was a very big believer of justice and doing the right thing. Guilt was niggling at the back of my mind. I really should stop this. This is bad for her memory.

Yet I clicked on one more story, my body moving mechanically.

I stared in open mouthed shock.

That's him! That's the guy! As I stared at the face on the screen a fresh torrent of emotions whipped into my raw psyche. I saw his face hanging over April's, a grimacing smile played across his lips, the knife he held in his meaty grip burying it between her ribs to pierce her heart mortally, his ugliness daring to impose itself on her beauty.

With trembling fingers I moved the mouse and clicked on the case. He was wanted for assault, battery and robbery of four elderly couples. My fingers tightened on the mouse, the plastic creaking in protest. I saw the pictures. One of the victims, a 90 year old woman, was now in a coma. Apparently he's only interested in easy prey. But why beat them like that? How much of a fight would those poor, frail people put up? He was a coward and a sicko. I could easily picture him smiling as he caused those victims all that pain and torment, just as he did with April.

All I could hear was the blood pouring in my ears with my heart working overtime in my fury. I stood up so fast that my desk chair toppled over, my hands clenched into fists. I could easily picture my hands around his throat, his arteries beating against my palms, the panic in his eyes as the light of life ultimately leaves them.

Abruptly I shook myself. Wait, what was I thinking? I was never the violent type, I don't have a temper, I never supported vigilante justice…is this what April would want?

I looked at the screen again. The cop in charge of the investigation was 100% sure that this was the guy, but none of the victims were talking, they were too scared. On top of that there was minimal evidence, but apparently the guy had literally confessed to the cop when he knew he wasn't being recorded so he had no proof. I quickly scanned my legal knowledge. Considering what they could pin on him, he could get put away for 5 years, 8 years tops though he'd likely get out a lot sooner if he behaves himself. After all, the prisons were overcrowded as it is.

I thought about sending the officer the information about him murdering April. Surely he'd appreciate something else to pin on this guy, and eyewitness testimony would help! Then he could get a REAL prison sentence…

I stopped short. What was I thinking? I'm not an eyewitness, I'm a mutant who can't show myself to anyone. No evidence was brought from April's case, there'd be nothing real to pin on this guy, the only thing that would really place him there would be lack of a real alibi if no one is vouching for him of course.

I sat down heavily, letting my head fall into my palms. Taking a deep breath, I quickly catalogued my thoughts, listing my options, weighing the likely outcomes, doing mental calculations, making ratios of likelihood… Clenching my fists, I gnashed my teeth. It wouldn't work. Nothing that I was thinking would work. As a citizen, my options were limited. As a mutant, you could practically discount all of them. I had even lost my interest in knocking heads on our nightly runs. I had did the research, even the punks that we found that were arrested, 99.99% of them were released due to lack of evidence. Some of them went straight for the victims that we had rescued them from as their own vengeance. I didn't let my family know that of course, they were thinking that we were doing something worthwhile, something productive. I couldn't burst their bubble. Let me stew with the knowledge on my own.

So what could I do? I couldn't go to the police. It is impossible to try to find evidence to present to them; besides, what makes me think that I can get anything that they can't? After all, they can do everything out in the open and they have the support of an entire department. I could go to the guy and rough him up, teach him a lesson. And then what? He'll heal, then go out and do it again. What's the point of that?

Well, what could I do?

The obvious answer that was dancing in the back of my mind continued to wave its hand in front of my face. I turned away from it, searching for another option, an honorable option.

I toiled over it for the rest of the afternoon. I ate dinner with my family but this was at forefront and I hardly noticed their concerned glances. Mikey was trying to get under my skin, maybe to distract me but I heard Splinter stop him. It was obvious to him that I was thinking about some sort of problem. He was happy that I wasn't drowning myself in sorrow, perhaps I was working on a new device or problem, something that would help me heal. I was surprised at how astute he was, of course he didn't know that this new issue had a lot to do with April.

The entire meal my eyes darted to my family. Should I tell them? I tried to picture how they would react. Leonardo would want to do the right thing, Raph would want to go and beat the shit out of him, and Mikey would go along with whatever direction the group chose to take. Splinter? He would definetly side with Leo. He would be astonished, and perhaps ashamed, at the route that my mind was beginning to take.

Even though I told myself that I would tell them everything, I couldn't find my voice. Maybe that was for the best. After all, It was my fault what happened to April. This scumbag likes easy targets. A single woman alone qualifies. It never would have happened had I been standing next to her like I was supposed to be.

It never would have happened.

My fault.

I didn't even realize that I had made my resolve until I found myself sneaking out by myself.

My feet felt like they weren't my own as I stood on the pavement. Yet I walked. Looking at the GPS on my phone, I approached his house. My hands tightened on my bostaff, the leather wrapping creaking slightly. The dingy apartment complex looked slightly foreboding. Then my resolve deepened.

This would change everything. It would tarnish my honor. It would stain me. Change me. It would never be the same. Yet here I was doing it because I had to.

I was about to become a killer.

I know that it was wordy but I figured that it fit Don's personality. He's not the type to be rash, right? Please let me know what you think. I wrote this in one sitting literally an hour ago so I'm on a roll. All reviews welcome, I love ramblers. Let me know any predictions or what you want to happen, to be honest I'm not really sure how to end this thing so of course input is welcome.


	3. Follow Through

I don't own the TMNT

Also, I forgot to mention this in the first chapter but I would like to thank BubblyShell22 for helping my wrestle this plot bunny to the ground!

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The cold steel in the fire escape barely seemed to enter my mind as my hand closed around it. Lightly I flipped over the railing, landing my heavy frame softly enough on the grating to barely register a tremor.

I was going to do it.

But I wasn't doing it lightly. He killed April. He would never see jail for her murder. I had to do something.

Right?

Yes.

Of course.

Lightly I went up the stairs of the fire escape, stepping on the balls of my feet and controlling my muscles so that it gave nary a tremble. Keeping my back against the wall I slowly approached the window and tested it. Locked. Breaking it would be easy but too noisy. Reaching into my belt I softly took out the ring of lock picking devices. Simple latch hook design. It hardly took me five seconds before the lock slid away from the flimsy device.

Shoving the window up it made a loud screech. I froze at the sound, muscles tense, senses straining for a sign that he heard. After an endless few seconds I heard nothing. Letting out the breath that I didn't know I was holding I slowly eased myself through the opening. Feet touching the cold, grimy kitchen linoleum, I blinked as I took in the surroundings.

The apartment was tiny. The kitchen, if you could even call it that, resembled more a large closet with severely outdated appliances. The living room was small, the carpet once a whitish color was now a mottled brownish orange. There was a single grimy armchair that looked like it was once abandoned sitting across a small 13 inch tube television sitting upon an equally small shipping crate. Looking across the room I saw the bedroom. Based on the existence of hinges, there was once a door. A small space. A small apartment. Yet somehow it seemed to stretch for a mile.

Again I doubted what I was doing. This wasn't like me. I don't go out killing people. Even when I was in a fight I always took care to not do mortal damage if I couldn't help it.

But this wasn't about me, it was about April. This was about justice that wasn't going to come if I didn't do anything. It's not like I didn't think about this.

But was I really a killer?

My heart squeezed hard in my chest and my hands twisted on my bostaff. For a long moment I simply stood in the kitchen, absorbing the silence, absorbing the enormity of what I was about to do. This wouldn't be so hard for some of my other brothers. Leo had resolve, Raph had strength, even Mikey had the spontanaety that would help him carry through. I was the one who thought too much.

But I wasn't Leo or Mikey or Raph.

Suddenly I found myself striding forward. I had to stop thinking about this, considering all the possibilities. I already did that, I decided what to do. I had to follow through with it. I paused at the threshold to the single bedroom, listening to the slight snoring. The mattress was not on a frame, it was simply lying on the bare floor. He was lying on the mattress under a single sheet wearing nothing but stained boxer shorts with an untidy pile of clothes in the corner. My eyes narrowed at the pistol and several blades, amongst which was a very familiar knife, lying on the mattress and the floor. The sight of that knife deepened my resolve.

Striding over I picked up the knife and knocked aside the other weapons, letting them clatter into the corner.

Startled at the noise, he automatically reached for one of the weapons before he had opened his eyes or even fully woke up. Upon finding nothing under his hand he jolted awake completely. Eyes widening he took in the sight of me. I could see the spark of rememberance in his eyes and I found that I liked it. Good. I want him to know who I am. To remember what he did. Mouth open, his tongue worked, jaw moved but no sound came out. The fear was evident.

Turning the blade over in my hand, I pretended not to notice him, studying the blade. Such a simple device. Yet it was the instrument to end April's life. My grip tightened on the hilt as my eyes whipped over to his.

For a long moment silence stretched between us. He was frozen with fear, and for me it was indecision. It would be so much easier if he would just lunge at me, then I could fight back. But seriously, what was I expecting? He attacks lone women and assaults elderly people. This isn't a guy who likes a fair fight. Why would he want to fight me?

I swallowed and broke the silence. "You know why I'm here?"

He stared and had to take another couple of heartbeats before he could answer. "You mean that…that girl?"

My gaze hardened and he could see it immediately. Panic seized him and he scrambled up from the mattress and lunched for the pistol lying in the corner.

My bostaff came down hard on the center of his back on the spine. It sent him crashing to the floor with a thump. Reaching down I grabbed him by his forearm and hauled him bodily to his feet. Not giving him a chance to regain any real footing I strode across the room to the living room, away from the weapons, half dragging him along with me, giving him no chance to regain any sense of balance. Gripping his forearm hard enough to bruise I literally tossed him across the room in the corner. Fists steeled I watched him fall and the flail as he scrambled to his feet.

By now he was babbling and begging, tears were beginning to well into his eyes. I bit back a groan. Pathetic. Why can't he just attack? It would make this so much easier. Obviously this wasn't going to be easy.

"You killed her."

"I'm sorry, I...I...I didn't mean it!" he was babbling, hands shaking, the tears now coarsing down his cheeks.

I stared at him. "You didn't mean it? Is that seriously the best that you can say?" I should just hit him now. My hands tightened on my bostaff.

He saw the motion. "No! Please don't kill me! Please! Please! I'll change, I swear! I...I'll turn myself in! I'll do anything! Please! Just don't kill me!" Crawling forward on his hands and knees he grabbed my ankle and planted his sobbing face on my foot, begging for his life.

Disgusted I yanked my foot back, grimacing at the tears and snot coating my skin. Unfazed, he crawled forward, practically on his stomach, still pleading and begging. I danced away again when he made a motion like he was going to kiss my feet. My stomach lurched both in disgust of his display and my reaction. Why couldn't I just do what I came here to do? Why did he have to act like this? I felt the bile rise in my throat when I realized that I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill a man in this state. Unarmed. Crying like a child. I put the tip of my bostaff against his head, exerting only the lightest of pressure. He collapsed willingly under it, curling into a fetal position on the floor.

He was a murderer. I should kill him.

But I knew that I was beaten. I didn't even know what to say. I knew that he wouldn't turn himself in. He'd probably be out of this city tomorrow just to keep away from me. Then he would prey upon others. If I had any mercy, any decency I would save the suffering of his potential victims and end this now.

I let out a breath. Who was I kidding. I should just go.

It was at that moment that the door to the apartment burst open. A slender woman dressed all in black, including gloves, ran in. Without hesitating a step she ran up to the man and kicked him square in the face. His head snapped back and blood spurted in a crimson arc out of his nose as he staggered backward at the sudden attack. Gloved fists balled and jaws clenched, she advanced on him.

Until she saw me.

Faltering, she staggered to the side, brown eyes wide. "Holy shit!" Stumbling over her own feet in an effort to get away from me she tripped and fell. No sooner had she hit the ground, however, than she brought out her own 45 caliber pistol from a holster on her thigh, aiming it straight at my face with a slightly trembling hand.

I stared back at her for what seemed like an hour but in reality was only a few seconds. Tension thick in the air, I slowly raised my hands so as not to startle her. "Easy. Eeeeeeeeasy." Holding my palms out in the classic 'peace' posture, I slowly slid my foot back to put some distance between us.

"What the fuck are you!"

"A non-threatening turtle. I-"

"Non threatening!" The guy was sitting upright now, hand clutched to the nose that was still pouring blood. "You were going to kill me!" He said a high pitched, whining voice.

I grimaced. So much for the weeping, begging creep. Sure can talk tough when a gun isn't pointed at _him_. "You killed my friend. You deserved it." I said through clenched teeth. Never you mind that I was about to back out of it. He didn't have to know that.

The woman's eyes blinked and an odd expression came on her face. "You came to kill him too?"

Dismay filled the man's eyes as they darted between me and the woman. After a heartbeat's hesitation he lunged for the window.

"Don't let him get away!" She cried, scrambling to her feet, gun lowered.

I was moving before she said anything. Swinging my bostaff, the end caught the man in the nose in an upward arc, knocking his head backwards once more until he completed a complete, unintended, somersault and landed on his belly, skull bouncing off the linoleum. He groaned, barely moving, not quite unconscious. The woman surged forward and grabbed him by the ankle and, with some effort, started dragging him back into the living room, leaving a smeared trail of red.

I watched without saying a word, still eyeing the woman cautiously. Common sense told me that I should get out of here now while she was distracted, but something held me back. I couldn't quite put my finger on it but in the past curiosity had nearly always rewarded me.

She struggled for a moment while she tried to roll him over, seeming not to notice me once more. She was having trouble for she was very petite and this guy must outweigh her by at least 100lbs. As if I tapped her on the shoulder she suddenly remembered I was there. Whipping her head around her eyes met mine once more. For a tense second she stopped and stared at me, her gaze hard and cold, as if trying to read me. Saying nothing, I stared right back, not having any clue as to what to do yet not willing to leave. Something compelled me about the situation. Then suddenly she jerked her head. "Are you going to help me or what?"

Slightly startled, I started forward without saying a word. Grabbing the man by his collar, I jerked him into a sitting position in a single motion. His head was limp against his chest, though he still let out the occasional moan. We both squatted there, staring at him, like a housecat who had caught a bird and forgotten what to do with it.

Without looking at me she spoke. "So he killed your friend? Was...he...a, uh a turtle like you?" Her voice trembled slightly. She was tense, her entire body radiating energy like a coiled spring ready to lash out. She probably hadn't completely made her mind up about me yet and was ready to act.

Giving her a sideways glance, seeing her fingers twitch over the gun that was back in it's holster, I waited an instant before I answered in a low tone. "No. She was a woman. One of my only human friends." My fist tightened. "He attacked her when he was alone. Like a coward."

She gave a sharp, harsh laugh. "My grandma just died. She was in a coma. She was the only family I had left." Finally her eyes slid over to mine. Her gaze was cold with hate. "He put her there. She was 90 years old. Did you know that he _raped_ her! A helpless, 90 year old woman!" Her lips grimaced in an animalistic snarl as her gaze shot back to the man. "I know that they don't have any evidence, lucky bastard got away scott free somehow, but I know it was him. The cop even knows it was him. He just can't cut through enough burocratic red _fucking_ tape to do her any justice!" she hissed.

I could feel it. Our differences were forgotten. She didn't know how to deal with me yet but she didn't care so long as we had the common goal. Suddenly I knew what we were waiting for. We were waiting for him to wake up. My thoughts were answered when she smiled cruelly. "I want to see the look in his eyes when he dies." She looked at me, asking for affirmation.

I stared back at her. A moment ago I was ready to leave, ready to let him go free, but somehow that changed. Maybe it was because she was here, maybe I knew that I could rely on the bloodlust I saw carved into her eyes to see me through. Either way I nodded in affirmation. My decision was made. He was going to die tonight.

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So what do you think? Hope that I'm not moving too slowly for you guys, but I always find it hard to rush things when I write as Don. I didn't want to make him come across as weak when he was alone with the guy, I know a lot of you were probably upset that I didn't make the guy more violent, but this all has a purpose I swear it! What do you think about my OC? I sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo want to avoid any perceived favor or mary suishness towards her, so let me know if I'm approaching it. This is one of the first times I've tried doing something like this. The next chapter will be a little more juicy, literally, hope you like it!

Leave a review and let me know what you think! Like it? Hate it? Predictions? Wishes? ANYTHING! Looking forward to hearing from you guys!


	4. First Kill

I don't own the TMNT

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The man started to stir more, coming out of his fog.

The woman looked at the knife that I still had clutched in my hand. "That yours or his?"

I looked down at my hand. I had completely forgotten that I still had it. It was a long blade, a little over six inches long and was slightly serrated. Turning it over in my palm I answered. "He used it to kill April."

"And now you're going to use it to kill him."

I started slightly. Was that what I was thinking? Was that why I had grabbed the knife? It _would_ be some poetic justice, in a way. Like paying back the favor. My fingers closed tightly on the handle. "Yes."

She nodded. "Good." Fingering the grip of her 45 she stared at him. "I brought this along just in case, but he'd die too quickly. Plus it's too loud."

I nodded. At least she understood the point of silence. She reached into her fanny pack and brought out a roll of duct tape. Tearing off a long piece with her teeth she covered his mouth, then with two others secured his ankles and his wrists.

"I've been thinking about what to do to him, and to be honest I still don't really know how I'm going to do it. I wanted to beat him, give him the same treatment that he did my Grandma but now I don't know. Somehow the thought of beating someone so pathetic and useless...it would be easier if he fought back" I nodded, knowing exactly what she was talking about. She grimaced and looked at me. "Was he seriously begging when I came in here?"

My lip curled up as I gave a half smile. "Not only that, he was sobbing in a fetal position. I hadn't even touched him yet."

She snorted. "What a waste of space and oxygen."

Finally his head came up. His face already swelling from the double blows that he received to the nose, which was by now not only broken but likely beyond natural repair. Jerking his limbs and his head panic filled his eyes as he realized his immobility. The waterworks started again, fat tears rolling down his eyes and snot forming in his nostrils already starting to dribble down. My eyes looked at him hard. What a pathetic excuse for a human. Such weakness. Such cowardice...

Suddenly I knew what I wanted to do with the knife.

Leaning forward into his face, I tapped the tip of the blade against his cheek. "You live without honor. Now you must pay the price."

Somehow the woman knew that I was about to end it and reached out to get my attention, barely touching the skin on my shoulder with her fingertip. Her face danced with something that I couldn't quite name. "Let me give him back some of the same pain he gave my Grandma first." Reaching into her fanny pack she withdrew a pair of small wirecutters. Undoing the latch and letting them swing open she grabbed his taped ankle and without a heartbeat of hesitation she cut off his left pinky toe.

The man's back arched and thrashed as he gave a muffled scream through his nose as his face turned red from the strain. Bright red blood spurted slightly from the open wound through the miniscule arteries. He kicked his feet, bucking, twisting, doing everything he could to get away. "Hold him down." She siad, looking at his face, her somewhat twisted smile looked off, yet at the same time it fit. My gaze went from the man's tear soaked face to hers, which had a bright light of, what could have been excitement. Without argument I leaned a hand on his legs and another on his chest, using my heavy frame to further restrain him. She flashed another odd smile and grasped the wriggling ring toe cut it off as well. It bounced off of the floor, leaving a tiny smattering of blood. The man let out an even more manic scream but before he could finish it she had already moved to the middle one, then a fourth, and finally with more effort the big toe.

By now a dark red pool formed by his foot soon filling the tiny apartment with the faint coppery scent of blood. I watched in silence as she continued, taking off the big toe on the other foot. A voice inside of me told me that I should stop this. This was cruel torture. This wasn't the honorable thing to do. It urged me to stop restraining the man, treat his injuries and take this woman to jail. Yet at the same time it seemed so skewed. So far as I know she was just here to avenge her grandmother, just as I had come to avenge April. It shouldn't matter, yet somehow it did.

The man's weeping lightened as he gave muffled screams of pain through the strong durable layer of duct tape covering his mouth. Maybe he was running out of tears. Maybe the pain was overcoming it. Either way it didn't matter. I stared at the man's eyes even as the woman finished the toes of the other foot. "How does it feel when you hurt people? Do you like it?" Her whisper was hoarse, as if she was crying, but her face was bright…glowing. Eyes wide and pupils dilated he shook his head furiously, breathing so hard through his nostrils that foam was beginning to form.

The woman paused, having no more toes to attack and looked at him with a wicked smile. "You know, somehow I just don't believe him." Scooting forward she reached out for his bound hands. He somehow gave a more frantic scream and yanked his hands away, swinging them this way and that in an attempt to keep them from her.

With a look from her I found myself shifting my hand off of his legs, replacing it with my foot and using the free hand to hold down his arms. For some reason I caught myself just looking at her, her face animated and bright as she worked the cutters on each of his fingers. His hoarse, muffled screams didn't seem to faze her at all. If anything, they egged her on. I should be disturbed by this, but it was understandable under the circumstances, right? Plus her face just seemed to glow. She was no great beauty yet she was very pretty. Her dark brown eyes were matched by equally dark hair peeking out from her cap. Her face looked delicate yet at the same time harsh. The combination only seemed to serve as an asset. Her entire frame was very petite, perhaps not even over 100lbs. Shorter than me even, not something that often happens.

Finishing with his fingers she held fast to the bloodied wirecutter, her eyes looking into mine. "You're turn."

I looked at the knife, the blade that ended April's life. Then I looked at the man, who was by now near delirious, though he was no longer sobbing and screaming quite as much. He was going into shock. It was now or never.

Yet again I hesitated, I seemed to be frozen in time, holding the knife over the bound figure of this man. Suddenly I felt the woman sidle up next to me, her body pressing against mine. It seemed surprisingly intimate, especially considering the situation and I found my pulse quicken slightly as she turned her face up to me and smile. "Let me help." She said in a hoarse whisper and placed her hands on top of mine.

Using steady but gentle pressure she guided my hand towards his abdomen, her motions guided by my eyes. She could see where I wanted it. The blade touched the quivering, damp skin of his flaccid belly. It seemed to stay there for an eternity, though it was only an instant. His eyes widened with fear when he felt it and in his panic he arched his back at the same time we pressed down on the knife, the two motions working together to bury the weapon to its hilt within his abdomen.

He let out a new, louder scream. Like hands guiding the glass on a Ouija board the knife slowly dragged itself across the expanse of his belly. Blood immediately poured from the wound, followed by thicker, more visceral things as the gruesome opening grew larger. We reached the other side of his torso. By now the blood was pooled thickly across the floor and he was moaning and twitching. The shock was overtaking him. Swiftly I yanked the blade out and thrust it back to the center, over where his belly button was and slicing again in an upward arc, creating a large upside down T shaped wound. Larger, slippery things peeked out from the wound, yet by now the blood was oozing instead of gushing. His skin, where it wasn't stained by his own blood, was cool, damp and ashen. He had lost too much blood, he was too far into hypovolemic shock. He wasn't long for this world.

I probably should have stabbed him in the heart, done something to end it more quickly, but instead I found myself sitting back on my haunches and watching him die. Until the light slowly left his eyes.

Just like April.

He was dead.

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So what do you think? Of the situation? Of the OC? Of the scene? Gruesome enough for you?

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Looking forward to hearing from you!


	5. Think About It

I don't own the TMNT

Special thanks to Alex Hamato for being a beta reader

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She stared at him for what seemed like an eternity but in reality was only a second. "We can't stop this." She whispered, somewhat hoarsely.

I didn't say a word for a second, still completely processing the scene before me and what we just did. My heart was still thudding hard in my chest, my body surged with unexpected adrenaline. I felt like I could run for hours. I could just picture the adrenal glands atop my kidneys secreting the hormone into my bloodstream, inacting the classic 'fight or flight' response. "What?"

Her head swung to me, her eyes piercing in the low light, face glowing, breaths coming a little rapidly through slightly parted teeth. "We _can't _stop this." She motioned to the man with her hand. "You've heard of guys like this, right? They get away with shit like this all the damn time! Why should they?"

Saying nothing, I swung my gaze back to the man, her words sinking in through the seeming bloodied haze. Then I shook my head. No. He killed April, I avenged her death. I did what I came here to do. Instinct told me to go. Yes, his mouth was taped, but he was still essentially screaming. Someone might have heard, the risk was too great. I stood up.

She grabbed my hand, standing up so that we were nearly eye to eye, though I was still slightly taller than her petite frame. "Look at you! You're a ghost! Nobody really knows about you, right? You probably don't even have real fingerprints! You move like fuckin' cat! You can get away with _anything! _We can stop them!"

I stared at her. Was she suggesting what I thought she was suggesting? Trying to ignore the sudden feelings that seemed to swamp me I shook my head. No. I couldn't. Somehow even talking about it seemed...wrong.

Frustration etched her face. She snorted. "So, you'd rather turn them into the police? Give the scumbags a chance for a 'fair' trial, something that they're victims never got? A chance to have a judge dismiss the charges cause of lack of evidence, or improperly filed paperwork, or a technical error or some stupid shit like that! And what if they do go to jail? They get free medical care, three square meals a day, cable tv all paid for by tax money and will probably end up getting released early due to overcrowding. We'll be doing them a favor! We'd be doing justice!"

"You don't know what you're talking about." I said in a low voice and gently disengaged my hand from hers.

She growled in frustration, fingers digging into her scalp through her knit cap. "Yes, I _do_. I know exactly what I'm talking about! I know you do, too! You're just in denial! What good are you doing when you play goody-two-shoes? What difference are you _really_ making?"

Starting to feel uncomfortable, I backed up away from her. She obviously wasn't thinking right. We just participated together in the torture and slaughter of this guy, maybe the situation was getting to her. I know it was getting to me.

In the distance I swore that I heard the wail of a police siren. Was it coming here? I shouldn't really wait around to find out.

She must've seen some of my thoughts across my face, for she too paused and listened. By now she could hear them too. Her eyes widened and she looked back at the broken-in door.

I seized upon her distraction. With three steps I was across the living room and the kitchen, lightly hopping through the window. Feet touching the fire escape for only an instant I did an easy flip across the alley onto the adjacent building, easily scaling it to it's height. Once I reached the roof, I pause. Damned if I know why, but I looked back.

There she was, her face in the open window. Smart enough not to scream or yell she mouthed her words and I could read them easily.

'Think about it.'

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Luckily I had thought about washing up before returning to the Lair. Maybe it was from being in that room, but the sickly sweet coppery smell of blood never left my nostrils. Looking at myself I realized that my hands were coated in blood. The crimson liquid was also sprayed across my front making a sharp color contrast on my pale plastron and was pretty sure that my face was liberally sprinkled as well.

Finding a secluded outdoor spigot in the back of a store long since closed for the night, I twisted the rusted knob and rubbed the water across my dark skin. I relished the sudden zing of the coldness of it, using the sensation to slap my mind out of the haze I was in.

Shouldn't I feel bad about what I did? Did the fact that I was still high on adrenaline make me bad? Taint my honor? It's not like I exerted a lot of energy, it had to be purely from the action itself that was giving me the adrenaline high. I tried to take a deep breath several times, holding it in my lungs for several seconds before slowly letting it go. Although it helped clear my head it didn't soothe my twitching muscles. Is this what Raph felt when he stormed out and ran across rooftops before finding some heads to bap together? I'll admit that I had envied him many times. He was so free, he was the only one of us who went out on his own on a regular basis. Sometimes I wondered how it must feel. Nothing but you and the night, the few stars that managed to outshine the cities light pollution peeking through the darkened sky.

Abruptly on the spur of a moment I turned on my heel, scaled the building in only a few seconds and sprinted across it. Muscles straining, the elastic fibers of it springing and recoiling with tension and the extra oxygen and glucose that my adrenaline soaked red blood cells poured into it. Clearing the distance to the next building I kept going, elated.

This was fantastic.

My mind whirred freely, suddenly released from the studiousness that it's normally encapsulated in.

Think about it.

That's all she said.

Should I think about it?

Well, technically I already was.

I admit, at the moment it seemed absurd. Maybe it's because of what we had just did. At that point I was still completely absorbing what we had just done, I didn't just kill him I killed a helpless man who couldn't fight back. Didn't just kill him, I helped to torture him. My mind told me that it was something solemn, yet my body...

I shook my head.

Think about it.

What she said was true. How many times had my brothers and I turned in purple dragons who were obviously guilty of their crimes, just to see their faces on the streets again a week later?

I ground my teeth and surged forward with more energy. When I reached the point that I should slow down and head down the manhole cover to the Lair, I found myself continuing, somehow needing to exert more energy. My body reveled in the movement.

Statistics poured into my head. There were roughly 1,400 shooting in new york and about 500 murders with a what? Sixty percent conviction rate? Meaning 4 out of 10 murders go free? Assaults weren't much better. A little over 2,000 were reported, 40% were convicted but only 25% of those saw prison. Take into account that only around 10% of rapes were even reported...

The image of the man that I had just helped to torture and kill continued to flash in my mind, surging my body forward each time the mental picture appeared. It was staggered with the sight of the woman, her eyes dancing, pretty face glowing with what we just did. I couldn't completely get rid of that one. Did I look like that? Have that excitement? Was it wrong if I did? And she wanted to do it again...

Realizing that I was finishing my third lap I started to slow. Mentally I calculated the distance and figured it to have been around 7 miles of straight running. Hormone fueled energy still poured into my veins and arteries but my muscles were telling me that they weren't up to the performance. Already I was panting, my plastron raising with each expansion of my lungs. I never could run like my brothers. I'll be the first to admit that I wasn't the strongest, I spent too much time in front of the computer and working on things both for my own intellectual curiosity and to make my family's life in the Lair easier and not enough time training like Raph or Leo or exercising through games and play like Mikey.

Coming to the street surface I opened the manhole cover and disappeared from view, closing it behind me.

I could feel my family's eyes turn towards me as soon as I entered the Lair. The questions in their gaze was obvious. 'Where did he go?' My lips kicked up in an uncharacteristic smirk. It threw them off that I had snuck off like that. Of everyone here, I was normally the most level-headed one. In fact I couldn't remember if I had really ever done anything like this before...I shrugged my shoulders at my own thought. Not like it mattered. I wasn't going to breathe a word to them, I didn't expect them to understand. I wasn't inclined to placate their curiosity.

Leo's eyeridges raised in slight surprise at my slight panting and the thin sheen of perspiration that coated my skin from my prolonged exertion, yet he said nothing, knowing that I needed my space. Raph noted the same thing but instead smirked and nodded approvingly, obviously thinking that I pulled a 'Raph.' He too, said nothing, perhaps understanding more than my other brothers my need. Mikey, of course, had none of their tact.

"Hey, Don, where'd you go?" He smiled, doing a poor job to hide the worry on his face. He was always the easiest to read.

"Don't worry about it." I was surprised on how gruff my voice sounded. Heads popped up with fresh surprise at the utterance. Was it the adrenaline surge? Maybe it had constricted my vocal cords... I shook my head as I turned away from my orange banded brother, suddenly not able to meet his eyes. Palpating my throat, making a vain attempt to loosen the tautness in my larynx, I turned away, face suddenly burning as I felt all eyes swivel to me once more. Making a beeline to my lab I slammed the door behind me, leaning against it, releasing the breath that I didn't realize I was holding.

I listened for the movement of my family from the other side. There was a moment of stunned silence, then there was a flurry of lowered voices. Smiling a humorless smile I rubbed my face. Wasn't I causing quite a commotion! Muscles aching yet still twitching with the aftershocks of the adrenaline surge I walked to my desk. My brother's rarely bothered my in my lab when I had the door closed, what little temper I tended to have normally surfaced when they disturbed me and they knew it.

Plopping in the familiar, worn computer chair I flicked on my PCs, allowing them to boot up. Considering how much time I spent online, they were each pirated through a different route, therefore they each had different speeds depending on which service the owner used, though thanks to me they always ran at maximum efficiency, not that they'd ever know it.

With the first one that sprang up I found my fingers entwining one of my favorite hacking algorithms, searching for a name to match that face that refused to escape from my mind. First I found the elderly woman, who, sure enough died earlier today. She had only one surviving relative. I dove into it. Sophia Manning.

Sophia.

Somehow the soft name seemed to suite her yet was juxtapose at the same time. So petite, feminine, soft, yet hard, unyielding and ruthless. All I could find at first was her childhood history. Her drug addict mother lost custody of her at the age of 8 and she was raised by her grandmother from then on. According to her school records she had a bad, violent temper and repeatedly got into trouble for attacking students and teachers. Then she participated in one of those prison programs for minors, one that offered that if you completed their week-long session then they would erase your juvenile record. She passed. After that I ran into an unexpected firewall. She joined the military, now able to qualify due to her newly cleaned record. I stared at the information for a moment. The marines. Somehow I could easily picture her in the uniform, handling the equipment, putting herself into harms way. Warmth blossomed in my core somehow and I shook my head. Had to concentrate now, getting into the federal database required no distractions.

Getting up I walked to the mini fridge and took out a Starbucks drink and a Hotpocket, popping it in the microwave as I took a few chugs of the iced coffee. As soon as it finished and the air was permeated with the odor of cheaply made pizza flavoring I carried the steaming pastry to my desk and sat back down, starting my next task while it cooled.

Navigating my way into military records was more difficult, though not as difficult as it probably should be. She wasn't in for long. Only 4 years, one enlistement. As soon as she came in she took advantage of the recent overturning of the 1994 Direct Combat Exclusion Rule pertaining to women and tried for a combat MOS. It was difficult, the marines required that she passed more stringent physical standards than other women in order to get it, but she passed with flying colors managing to land artillery. I pursed my lips in pleasant surprise as I read through the advanced requirements. Apparently that petite frame was much stronger than it looked! Although I could see that she did see combat I couldn't see any details of the occurrences. She was refused re-enlistment recently, within the last month, but took her time coming back. My heart twisted. Her grandmother must have been attacked while she was gone. No wonder she was so pissed, she wasn't there for the person she loved, just like me. She wasn't there to protect her...just like me.

She was signed in with the VA and was scheduled for her first appointment two months from now. I shook my head in disgust. Just got out, combat veteran, and the soonest they could see her was in over three months? The way they took care of veterans was a sad joke. I looked at her demographics, her address...her phone number...

Think about it...

I rubbed my face hard with my hands. I was actually thinking about it! I tried to picture the man that we slaughtered in a different light, as a helpless hogtied man who we caused insurmountable pain, yet the image that kept popping in my head was his twisted smile when he stabbed April, the list of names of the elderly that he robbed, beat and assaulted...

_They get away with shit like this all the damn time! Why should they?_

Her voice rang in my head. Abruptly I swung over to another screen, uploading a live tv feed. Maybe all I needed was to watch some mindless television shows. Of course the first thing that popped up was a commercial by a lawyer, stating in a no-nonsense manner that people didn't have to 'unnecessarily suffer' with an assault or DUI charge, that with their help they could get those charges dropped.

_Give the scumbags a chance for a 'fair' trial, something that they're victims never got?_

No. We did enough. We stopped people from doing bad things all the time...

_You're just in denial! What good are you doing when you play goody-two-shoes? What difference are you re__all__y making?_

I always liked to believe I was making a difference, but what was I _really_ doing? I was just existing. With our enemies gone, what did we do? Eat, train, sleep. There was always the pathetic hope that something could change with April, but that dismal chance died with her at the point of a knife, at the hands of a man who was already lucky enough to get away with murder. How many more of those people were out there? Too many...

_You can get away with anything! We can stop them!_

It was true, with our unique physiology we were ideally suited for it. No one really knew of our existence, and even if someone did the proof that they'd have to come up with to avoid being labelled as crazy would have to be pretty big. It was risky, I would be putting myself in a position, increase the likelihood of getting caught...getting seen...

_Think about it..._

The grim statistics ran through my head. How many more Aprils were there out there? How many other people were getting away with their horrific crimes? Maybe it was just the adrenaline talking...maybe just the new bloodlust...

Then again, maybe I was just seeing things clearly for the first time.

This _would_ make a real difference...

_Think about it..._

I looked at the page displaying her information and picked up my shell cell. After taking a final breath I dialed her number.

She picked up on the second ring. "Yes?" I smiled. No-nonsense. To the point. I already liked it.

"I thought about it."

She laughed. It sounded like bells. I could feel her smile in her voice, realizing then that I was returning it.

Something in the back of my head told me that I didn't know what I was getting myself into, yet another part of me welcomed it.

Think about it.

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I tried to make his mental transition gradual yet intense, trying to pay homage to his analytical nature. Hope I pulled it off and he doesn't come across as too OOC. With luck my OC is coming across alright.

I am NOT military bashing! I am a veteran and will be the first to let you know that the image portrayed in some shows (and this story) is NOT the norm! I am simply using a certain situation to fit my story. I am using literary license with the female in combat thing, technically enlisted can't apply until 2016ish, but i hope that you'll forgive me tweaking the dates. The advanced requirements are true, though, which I personally agree with.

Let me know your thoughts, wishes, predictions and whatever else you have to say. I welcome the feedback and look forward to hearing from you!


	6. Doing it Again

I don't own the TMNT

Special thanks to Alex Hamato for being my beta

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I was excited. Damn it all, but I was excited.

It was going to be today.

The image of the man we murdered flashed in my mind, the duct tape stretched over his face, blood splattered over his skin.

It was immediately replaced by that of Sophia, flashing me with a predator's eyes.

I had no idea how much I had been looking forward to it until the day came, but now I could hardly control my excitement. My mind was on what was to come. I know I should feel ashamed that I was thinking like this, but I couldn't help it, try as I might.

I shook myself as Mikey charged. Blocking the swift punches, I was grinning, my mind still elsewhere even during the session.

Ducking Mikey's kick I feinted to the right and jabbed a punch at his inner thigh before he had a chance to recover from the kick. He yelped as my knuckle struck the main nerve running in that area. Immediately I followed with my other fist to his other thigh. He hit the ground on his knees and I swung my final punch at his unprotected neck, stopping short an inch from his skin. If it was a real fight then my fist would have crunshed into his throat, a death blow.

He looked at me with wide eyes, before grinning, "Woah, you got me! Haven't seen you move like that in a _long_ time!"

I blinked. To be honest I wasn't really paying complete attention, maybe that's why I bested him so quickly, my biggest issue during fighting was over-thinking things. I allowed myself to smile, though to be honest I really didn't care all that much. "Thanks Mikey." Backing up I turned to the others, who were still in the middle of their spar, anxious for our training session to be over. This wasn't uncommon for me, half the time I had some project in my lab that I wanted to get you. Technically I did have a project, but it wasn't anything that they would know anything about.

Without a word, I sat down cross-legged, waiting for Raph and Leo to finish their session. Mikey was still talking animatedly, not really noticing that I wasn't listening. The conversation from earlier kept replaying in my head.

_"I found someone."_

_I could feel her smile through the phone, I couldn't help but smile back. _

Her voice was so much different from April's, it was different enough that it chased away the image of her, at least temporarily. It sounded horrible, but seeing her death replay in my head over and over...it was fraying on my nerves. The death-instant replay had been going on since it happened, but a few days after killing her murderer is when it really started getting bad. I couldn't work, couldn't sleep, couldn't concentrate. Despite why I was doing this, I knew she wouldn't approve. If anything it made me feel more alone, that there was one more person who wouldn't quite understand. The woman that Sophia's the voice belonged to was more than ready to do what needed to be done, of truly understanding what this was woman that the voice belonged to was more than capable of doing what others could not_. _

_"Really? About damn time! Who is it?"_

_My smile widened. She wasn't one for a lot of patience. She had been calling at least once a day for the last week and a half, anxious for news. When I had decided to do this with her, she wanted to go out right away, but I refused. We needed a real plan. We had to be smart about this, pick people that we knew were guilty, learn at least a little about their habits and choose the location carefully so that we had the best opportunity to avoid leaving evidence behind. "He's a pedophile."_

_Her laugh chimed in my ear. It still sounded like bells. "Perfect! It sounds fuckin' perfect! When?"_

Tonight. It was going to be tonight. I had already done the research, learned his habits. Luckily he lived alone. It was in a bad part of town, which was better for what we wanted to do. He had gotten out of prison only six months ago after serving a seven month sentence for molesting an 11 year old boy. There were three other possible victims that couldn't be proven and the victim that they could ascertain proved to be a horrible witness. Otherwise he might've gotten longer. He was suspected of continuing his nefarious activities, though it was only a suspicion. Howeve,r through my own online dalliances and prodding I found the boy's internet avatar for an anonymous forum that he was a part of and was able to confirm it. It was all that I needed to know.

Briefly the image flashed in my mind. The shocked look on April's face as hot blood pumped out of her chest, her murderers entrails spilling on the floor, Sophia's laugh.

We were going to be meeting soon. Another six hours, already I could picture her standing there in the dark, waiting for me, eyes shining. The same way they looked the last time. The same way they were going to look again, when the knife sunk into his abdomen.

"Do you understand, Donatello?"

I started, suddenly realizing that Splinter was talking to me. Staring at him, my mind worked as he was looking at me, expecting an answer to...something. Instead of saying anything and getting caught in a lie, which Splinter would see right away, I bowed my head in a gesture of respectful understanding. I could feel his eyes on me for a long second, quickly followed by those of my brothers. My skin heated. Yeah, so what, I was caught daydreaming, but that isn't _that_ odd, was it? Ok, well maybe it was. Damn! I need to be more careful. But it was so hard, I itched to get out...

Luckily after the pause Splinter continued forward, "That will be all for today, my sons."

I let out the breath that I didn't know I was holding. Keeping my body still as my father slowly walked into his room I smiled. Not that far to go. My fingers twitched, almost as if I could feel the arterial blood pulse over them.

"Dude! What's going on! Spacing out is _totally_ my thing!" Mikey smiled, though it wasn't a true smile. He was worried. Damn him, why did he have to care so much! Why didn't he just keep his distance more like Raph and Leo did. Well, he always was the most compassionate of my brothers. He probably figured that this had something to do with April too, though unlike my other two brothers, he wanted to do something about it, even if it meant being more intrusive. I smiled slightly to myself. Well, technically this _did_ have something to do with April, though it was evolving into so much more so fast. Abruptly I could picture her eyes widened in shock, her gasp as she died...damn! Snap out of it! I let out a breath. My hand trembled.

Blinking, I looked at my brother and smiled half-heartedly. "Sorry, bro, my mind's just been...busy lately." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. If only he knew, he might freak out. Hell, sometimes it freaked _me_ out.

He eyed me critically. He could tell that I was holding something back, but wasn't sure how far to press it. Then he pursed his lips and partially shrugged, though he clearly hadn't fully let it go. "Well...let me know if you need anything bro, you know that we're here," He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

I half cocked a smile before backing away from the touch. Somehow, in light of what I was going to do tonight, it seemed wrong. Almost as if he touched me, then the blood would be on his hands as well. "Thanks, Mikey. I'll remember that." I turned away before he could say anything else, suddenly not able to meet his gaze. Damn, what was wrong with me!

I holed myself in my lab for the next three hours, avoiding my family. I've been doing the same for nearly the whole week. It was almost as if I was in my own world. I know it was selfish, but I didn't know how to meet their questioning looks. Truthfully, I would have to learn and learn quick. They were only keeping their distance still because of what happened. I knew that they felt bad about how they were after April was killed, how they were towards me. It even affected their relationship with Casey. He blamed me most of all, and although Raph wasn't wholly supportive of me, he didn't stand by Casey and agree with him either. In fact, he was one of the ones who pulled him off of me that night. So their relationship was becoming more strained and I knew that the fault was mine. Whether they chose to say it or not I'm sure that's what the rest of them were thinking as well. But this respectful distance wouldn't last. Sooner or later they would start to push.

Rubbing my face, I tried to keep my mind off of it by diving into the police investigations, once again checking on the open investigation of April's murderer, the guy that we had mutilated in his living room. The image flashed of him, blood spattered on his face, everywhere. His entrails strewn about the room...I shook my head, bringing my attention back to the screen. I sighed with relief. There were still no leads. No evidence had been uncovered thus far, though to be fair the investigator wasn't exactly throwing himself into the case. Yet another scumbag taken off the streets. Who would really miss him? I don't know why I kept checking it. It was obvious from the first time that I looked into it that we were going to get away with it. I left behind no evidence and Sophia was wearing gloves and had her hair in a tight bun, none escaping it so far as I could tell. Technically, even if they found her DNA they couldn't do anything about it unless they could tie it to her somehow. This part stayed on my mind, I would have to be careful that everyone I selected would have no ties to her. Still, I felt careless, more or less. I ran too soon, I should've stayed behind and made sure that the scene was clear, that we left no evidence behind. We got lucky. Whether it was the truth or not that's how I felt. I was used to being prepared, having a plan. Instead I went in there half cocked, flying by the seat of my pants. I wasn't going to let it happen again.

I stepped out when it was time for dinner. Swallowing the food without really tasting it, I washed the dishes and made a beeline back for the lab, not really saying a word the entire time. My brothers looks were questioning, as was Sensei's, but none of them spoke directly to me. I knew I was acting erratic, more so than the past week since the first murder. It was only that I felt like I was on pins and needles. My hands kept flexing, I could already feel the weight of the knife in my hands, the initial tension of the blade before the tip broke the skin.

My family had a hard time understanding it all. It had only been three weeks since April's death, and technically I had been more withdrawn since it happened. Well, more than just withdrawn. Twitchy, perhaps. Maybe they just figured that this was a continuation of this. Either way, we weren't really skilled at dealing with situations like this. We made few friends outside of our family and it was the first time that any of them had died. They knew that I was the closest to her, perhaps they simply thought that I was dealing with it in my own unique way.

Which, technically, I was.

I couldn't get the image of April's death out of my mind. I couldn't get over the smell of her blood, the feel of it as it pumped between my fingers, draining the life out of her. I hadn't been able to get it out of my mind, until that night. That man, his entrails spilling out, the light of life leaving his eyes. The adrenaline rush was incredible, coupled with the thought that I could do it again. For that time, although April was the entire reason for doing it, she was out of my mind. Instead it was obsessed with the feeling, with planning the next one. Yet once I had the next victim picked I started to see her again and it was driving me crazy.

Anxiously, I looked at the clock. Another 45 minutes to go. It would take about 10 minutes to run over to the location. Waiting for the extra time to pass seemed to take three times longer than it was, but by then it was late enough that I could get away with sneaking out. They already thought that I was in bed. Sneaking might not be the best way to think about it, it's not like Splinter wasn't aware of everything that we did. It was more like I was avoiding everyone, the last thing I wanted to do was to run into someone and feel obligated to explain myself.

Opening the door to my lab, I stepped out in the common area. It was quiet. Moving lightly along the wall, I approached the doorway. The additional weight of the knife that I carried was obvious to me, but in a way it was a comfort. I was probably being stupid for keeping the knife, after all it was part of a crime scene, but it seemed to suite my purpose. Somehow, the symbolism of using the knife that killed April to continue what I was doing seemed...perfect. I was honoring her memory at the same time that I was going out to kill again. Just to keep the vision of her death out of my brain. To see Sophia again. Feel that adrenaline rush. Maybe it would last longer this time.

Quietly slipping topside, I gently fit the manhole cover back into it's hole. Lightly scaling the fire escape, I broke into a full-on sprint as soon as I reached the rooftops. Relishing the sudden surge of freedom I leapt to the next rooftop. Airborne, I felt the temporary feeling of weightlessness as I reached the crest of the jump to seep into my muscles before gravity and my own momentum brought me to the other building. As soon as my foot touched the grainy concrete I was off again, allowing my muscles to stretch. My tendons and ligaments pistoned as they moved along with the bone and muscle in the beautifully choreographed physiology of the body.

It only took seven minutes to reach the rendezvous point, but I stayed in the shadows, waiting to see her approach. Briefly, I considered going to her address. It wasn't that far. She didn't question if I knew it or not, she didn't even ask me how I got her phone number. Somehow it made me feel good that she seemed happy to let it remain a mystery. Plus, there was an aspect of trust that I felt, that she seemed to rely on me to make sure everything flowed smooth. Likely this was a false belief, but childish as it may be, I was willing to let it continue within my mind, at least for a little longer. In the end, I stayed rooted to the spot, waiting to see her. Replace April's image. Someone real, that I could touch.

When she appeared, I smiled at the sight. She was dressed all in black again, sporting tight gloves on her hands. Landing lightly on the fire escape, I scaled soundlessly down to ground level. She didn't notice me coming, instead she leaned against the brick wall of the building and pulled out her phone, checking it. As I approached, I looked more closely at her appearance. I smiled when I realized that she had taken my advice. Freshly showered, her hair was still very damp and was pulled back into a tight bun. Her clothing was more commonplace, I specifically directed her to choose plain cotton clothing, something that couldn't be easily traced. Her shoes were also very average. Cheap, extremely common brand, one that was easy to clean or destroy depending on the situation. Leather gloves poked a little out of her pocket, along with a cap to go over her hair as extra protection. Her fanny pack, the same one as that night, was secured about her waist, likely holding similar tools as that night.

I stood beside her for a moment, wondering if I should attract her attention or not. My eyes strayed to her face. Also freshly scrubbed from the shower, she was completely clear of makeup or any other product that could tie her to anything. Suddenly her brown eyes darted to mine. Widening slightly in surprise at my sudden appearance, she nonetheless smiled and pocketed her phone. I bit my lip slightly as she took a step towards me, her eyes dancing in that way that I had pictured in my head so many times. "I almost thought you weren't going to show."

I flashed her my own smile, saying nothing.

She laughed again. The act seemed to make her face glow and my insides curled. Bells. The sound seemed to chase away the image of April's face, pale as the blood left her. "Lets go meet this guy. I have a message for him." she said, smiling a predator's smile.

My heart thudded in my chest. We were going to do it again. We were really going to do it. For a little bit, earlier in the week, I wasn't sure that I could but with her here...

She put her hand on my arm and my heart beat harder. Yeah, I could do it. I could feel that adrenaline rush. Chase the ghosts away.

"Let's go."

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Let me know your thoughts, wishes, predictions and whatever else you have to say. I welcome the feedback and look forward to hearing from you!

For anyone that likes zombies I have a TMNT/zombie fic called Death Rising Among Us


	7. Second Kill

I don't own the TMNT

Special thanks to Alex Hamato for being my beta

The ending is inspired by a review of Snake MacReady

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The air was charged with excitement. Anticipation. Maybe a little unease.

It was wrong, I knew. Common, decent society generally looked down upon homicidal vigilantism. Perhaps with good reason. Each time my brain crept over to thoughts of my family, thoughts of April, thoughts of what they would think of what I was doing...my stomach turned. This went against how I was raised, how I was taught, the morals that were drilled into me since my fateful day of mutation by my father. Yet here I was.

We traveled by foot, not only less obvious but also one less thing to worry about leaving trace evidence or anything to lead investigators back to Sophia. She didn't complain in the slightest and easily kept pace with me as we silently crept ever closer. I couldn't help but admire her movements. They were fluid, well toned muscles moving with obvious experience. I wondered exactly what she did when she was in the marines, what her experiences were. I made a mental note to ask her later. My body was still eager, ready, so the exercise was also useful in toning me down slightly, Sophia as well. I honestly hadn't thought about that aspect but welcomed it. Likely it would decrease our chance of making a mistake in a flood of excitement.

We didn't talk the entire time, yet we stayed close, almost as if there was some invisible binding preventing us from getting too far apart. Normally I don't welcome such prolonged close proximity. After all, next to Raph I'm the brother who tends to spend a lot of time to myself. But for some reason I was comfortable the entire time. Strengthened my resolve, even.

Sophia didn't seem to mind at all either. I was even beginning to think that she was enjoying my company. We could scarcely go twenty feet without her eyes meeting mine and flashing me a smile. I couldn't help but return it.

When we initially started out, after meeting, it was as if the realization of what we were going to do hit me all over again. I thought that I had mulled it over enough, but apparently going through the details and planning something doesn't compare when you actually set out to do it. This was when the feelings of guilt were the worst. Not for the guy we were hunting. No. He was worse than scum. It was again for my family, for April's memory, for myself. I could almost feel my own moral character being shredded. Was this who I really was? After all, I did make the decision while still technically on an adrenaline high, that could've clouded my thinking right? The memory of April flashed again in my brain. This time her eyes staring at me accusingly while the knife was plunged ruthlessly between her ribs, tears forming in her eyes as the blood bubbled, spurted and pooled...

That's when Sophia put her hands on my arm, gentle yet insistent. Her predator eyes flashed as she grinned. "It's alright."

I could do nothing but stare at her. Did she know what I was thinking? How could she? If I was smart, then I should stop this. I was being selfish, immoral. Yet as I looked at her, April's accusing face as it drained of blood was slowly replaced by Sophia's. Suddenly I saw her murderer, the blood bubbling from his lips, his bowels glistening in the exposed light, Sophia's hands on mine as we guided the knife across him. The adrenaline surge kicked in again, albeit slowly. I wasn't stupid. I knew that that was partially what I was here for. Give me something else to chase away the night that I allowed April to die. Her image reminding me of my failure. There was just the extra bonus of taking a sick pedophile off the streets in the same sweep. If you look at it that way, I wasn't doing anything really wrong. Who would fault me for doing this to this 'man?' Surely not the little boys that he had victimized.

Then there was Sophia.

"Forget her." She smiled.

I blinked. "What?" I said in hushed tones.

She looked at me with a slightly confused expression. "Hm?"

Shaking my head I looked at her. "Did you say something?"

_Forget her._

Her face scrunched slightly in a look of puzzlement. "What? No...don't tell me you're schizophrenic or somethin'." I stared at her for a long moment and she met my gaze without wavering. For the first time that night, something felt...off. Was it Sophia?

She laughed, causing the bells to tinkle into my ears. I blinked as thought clearing a haze even as she shook her head and continued. I stared at her for a second before following. The pedophile's apartment building was in view and my heartbeat started to quicken in anticipation. Although the odd feeling was still upon me I shoved it back. I probably just imagined it. My thoughts have been scattered lately. After all I _had _been seeing April's death in instant replay for weeks. There couldn't be anything wrong with Sophia. My mind still wanted to probe further but I refused to look at it. I knew, deep down, that I couldn't yet do these things on my own. I needed her. There _couldn't_ be anything wrong.

I couldn't think of that now. This guy, if he kept to his schedule, would be home soon. If we were going to do this we didn't have time to dawdle.

I stared long and hard at the neighboring area before moving. It was not in a great part of town, but not exactly the ghettos either. I inspected the windows and the sidewalks, checking for any sign of movement. It was late, and from the looks of it most people were asleep. Nonetheless, we would always try to act as if someone could look through the blinds at any second. Seeing going through the front entrance as she did last time being too risky, we took to the fire escape, which I scaled easily. Sophia took longer, especially since it was harder for her to move without rattling the metal railings and to avoid standing in front of someone else's window. She didn't have as much practice in the art of silence.

While she made her way up I quickly inspected the window. Confirming that there was no security system I swiftly unhooked the latch, waiting for a few seconds to make sure that nothing moved inside at the seemingly loud sound of it. Hearing nothing I slowly lifted the window taking a hesitant sniff of the interior before stepping inside. Mostly I was trying to confirm that there would be no surprises, like, for instance, a new dog or unexpected house guest. Detecting nothing I turned around and motioned Sophia to follow me inside, closing the window except for a crack large enough to fit my fingers through so I could easily and swiftly jerk it back open in case I needed to.

I had already gone over my plan with her in our previous phone calls. The first thing we did was unplug everything. I wanted his body to remain undiscovered for as long as possible, I didn't need a blaring alarm clock that didn't turn off or something like that alerting people here. After unplugging the lamps, I unscrewed the bulbs in the ceiling lights enough so that they wouldn't come on. It would aid in our intended surprise if he couldn't turn on any lights. Going to each window we made sure all the blinds were closed. If they were not we stepped to the side to do so, making sure that we wouldn't be visible through the glass.

The apartment itself was pleasantly furnished, not at all like our last guy. Not exactly what you'd expect a pedophile to live like. Then again, it would probably send the innocent boys scurrying if his place screamed what he was. Instead it was warm, inviting and friendly. My insides curled to find the collection of stuffed animals and toy trucks and action figures in a toybox by his bed. Sophia's eyes blazed when she saw that and she made a move like she was going to destroy them but I put a hand on her and stopped her. No use making any noise, plus this might help our, ah, 'case' as of why we were doing this. Maybe it would make the police less eager to look for clues if they didn't exactly disagree with what we were doing.

The area scouted, I selected his bedroom as the area that we would wait for him. Sophia wanted to use his living room and pounce on him as soon as he entered the apartment, but I stopped her. The last thing we needed would for him to happen to be on his cell phone when he came in hand have someone else hear our attack.

He worked full time as a janitor. It used to be in a school, but that was stopped by his conviction luckily. Now his union had him working in a mall in the daytime, though he did night shifts at a popular nearby bar, one that could afford to have someone come in after hours and clean up the kind of mess that can only be made by a huge number of drunk adults.

Allowing the door to partially close we waited.

Although it was more along the line of fifteen minutes or so it seemed like over an hour. Sophia was beside me, shifting from one foot to the other, looking at her clock every thirty seconds, even doing a series of squats and lunges. I thought about stopping her, but didn't. After all, she was doing her best to cope with the wait. In truth, I wasn't having a great time with it myself. As soon as we entered the apartment we went through the planned routine in a swift, business-like manner. The actions kept my nerves at bay, after all I had something to do, a mission to accomplish. It was easier to ignore my heart thudding against my chest, the quiver in my legs.

But now all I had was the silence of the apartment and my own thoughts, which for all my life was both my gift and my hindrance. Swimming in my own brain I found I was not a happy bedfellow. The excitement, the adrenaline was almost more than I could bear. My extensive training was all that kept me from running around the room just to keep from being still. I wanted to move, I _needed_ to move. Yet ninjas were patient. Or at least they were supposed to be. My mind was running around more than my body ever could. Did I forget anything? Were they going to find some evidence to convict us? I knew deep down that it was literally impossible to enter a place and not leave some trace of yourself behind. Would they find anything? How hard would they look for the murderer of a pedophile? Maybe I was counting too much on that, after all it was still a murder on their books. For all they knew we were ten times worse than this guy. Were we? Maybe this was all a mistake. Come on, Don, you don't do things like this. You're supposed to be the peaceful brother, right?

April still ebbed at the back of her mind. For a full minute, all I could think of was the sick squelching sound of the knife slipping between her ribs below her breast, piercing her heart. The look in her eyes when it happened. The hot arterial blood spurting out in tune with her heartbeat. My palms sweated and guilt poured over me. I almost questioned why I was doing this when she so clearly wouldn't approve. This was quickly chased by the memory of my own knife, the same used to kill her, sinking into her killers abdomen. His intestines spilling before me, the life leaving his eyes. At this the guilt was chased away by the adrenaline soaked excitement. I could clearly picture the adrenal glands squirting the hormone into my bloodstream, heightening me into what I could only call a bloodlust.

I was going to do it again.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of keys in a door. Sophia froze, stopped what she was doing and got beside me. I hefted my bostaff, squeezing the wood in my hands. It was always a reassuring feeling.

Sure enough, when the door opened the guy was on his phone. Even through the tension I smiled a 'I told you so' at Sophia. She stuck her tongue out at me. Yet in an instant the expressions were wiped clean and we readied ourselves, preparing to temporarily hide in case he came to the bedroom while still on the phone. My fists clenched and unclenched, anticipation rising. The knife still tucked into my belt seemed like a leaden weight.

I heard the sound of him trying the light switch. He cursed. "Yeah, I'll have to call you back later. Damn power's out. Swear this building manager is useless. Yeah, okay, next week then." The phone flipped closed and my excitement rose slightly higher. Phone is shut. One less thing to worry about. Motioning for Sophia to stay where she was I slowly slipped through the door as I heard him make his way to the bathroom. He cursed again when he found that this light, too, wasn't working. Leaving the door open, fumbling slightly in the dark, he managed to locate the toilet and pulled his fly down. My eyes, already accustomed to the darkness, stared at him as his back was turned to me, holding his offending member as he urinated. Gripping my bostaff I waited until he was finished, not relishing the decision of whether to clean up spilled urine. As soon as he started to turn the end of my bostaff struck his head with a _crack!_ I caught him as he fell, easily handling his slender frame.

Holding him by his armpits, not wanting too much contact with my skin, I dragged him easily across the floor to his room. He was already moaning. It was intentional. I didn't want him out for a while, just long enough to get him restrained and relatively quiet. As soon as we were in his bedroom Sophia was on him. Duct tape out, she first got his mouth then secured his wrists to his bed posts. As she secured his ankles I slowly, gently dragged the bed far enough away from the wall so that if he struggled it wouldn't knock.

Standing up I looked down at the man in disgust. Apparently I didn't give him enough time to zip up his fly, and it was obvious that he was a wear-no-underwear type person. Sophia was looking at it too, her nose wrinkled in distaste even as she worked to take off his shoes and socks.

I put away my bostaff and grabbed for the knife. It seemed to spring into my hands. My hand tightened on the handle as if glued there even as my blood pumped with excitement. The prior trepidation, the memory of April's death suddenly seemed so distant. My mind, my body, my entire core was here. Now. Preparing to do it again.

A grin split my face as the man's eyes hazily opened, snapping wide in shock at the sight of us. Sophia hefted her much loved clippers, obviously planning to do the same thing she did last time. "Fucking perverted freak." She hissed at him as she started on his right foot.

I barely seemed to notice what she was doing, my eyes were glued to his face. I pinched his nose during the screams that seemed like they were going to be louder, coupled with the duct tape it all but muffled them. His face reddened and purpled. As soon as I let go he gasped. We repeated this until he simply wept and sobbed, mucous dribbling down his face. I looked at his eyes. I saw the fear in them, the pain, the torment. "Is this what those little boys felt?" I said in a low voice. Somehow this spurred further terror in his eyes. Perhaps he realized what he was truly in for, after all we knew what he was. Frantically he shook his head. as if to try to make us believe something else even as Sophia finished with his feet and started to move to his hands. I looked at him. What a waste of life. Without realizing where the thought came from I grabbed a few of the more innocent looking stuffed animals and placed them on either side of his face. This caused his sobbing to intensify.

The smell of blood was now loud in my nostrils, the coppery scent seemed to take over everything else. It made me feel heady, maybe somewhat high. Sophia moved around the bed to his last hand. Seeing the stuffed animals she laughed. "That's rich." I smiled too, my fingers flexing on the knife.

She was finished. I moved towards him, she moved beside me, her hand starting to move over mine like she did last time, then she paused.

Picking up the clippers once more she smiled. "Wait. Got one more appendage to get rid of."

Snickering, she moved towards his unzipped fly.

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Hopefully I didn't get to nitty-gritty with the whole genital thing. Let me know your thoughts, wishes, predictions and whatever else you have to say. I welcome the feedback and look forward to hearing from you!

For anyone that likes zombies I have a TMNT/zombie fic called Death Rising Among Us also I have a Raph POV called Hello Cruel World that is seriously suffering from lack of attention! :)


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